Dirty Dancing
by RobNips
Summary: Spending the summer in a holiday camp with his family/circus tour, Clint Barton falls in love with the camp's dance instructor Natasha Romanoff. ((Deaf Clint Barton / Natasha Romanoff Clintasha AU))
1. Chapter 1

**_Due to the horrendous amount of times I have watched Dirty Dancing, here I am. A Clintasha AU. Obviously some things have been changed so it fits the characters and situations and blah blah blah. Enjoy._**

* * *

_The summer was one in 1963 - when we lived with the circus and traveled by train, and it didn't occur to me to mind. That was before President Kennedy was shot, before the Beatles came, when my only problem was whether anyone was trying to talk to me without me realizing, and I thought I'd never have anyone to ever look after me like my brother did. That was the summer we went to Kellerman's._

"Hey!" Barney faded voice just barely reached Clint, the older boy's elbow slamming into his side. "Come on, there's something going on."

Clint took his hands out of his pockets to reach out for Barney's arm, pulling him off the floor. The train had stopped its constant rocking only a few minutes ago, and Clint already felt the motion sickness start wearing off. The archer had impeccable balance, when it came to the show. Carson put him on in the big act nearly every other week, now that summer's back. Any time he didn't have the bow in his hands he was as clumsy as the rest of them.

The rest of them being the rest of the circus. Some clowns, the acrobats, the animal trainers, a strongman, the 'freaks' of the crew. The big man himself, Carson. Not that many of them talked to the archer anyway, really only Barney and Clint's own trainer Buck, and sometimes even Jacques, could even stand to slow down enough to talk to the sixteen year old.

'Deaf' they called him. 'Retarded'. He didn't care, he'd heard it all before. An expression, of course. But they were wrong. He could hear some things. Loud things, he could recognize familiar voices. Barney's. Buck's. Carson's, if he's hollering at him loud enough. He could hear garbled speaking around him but not understand unless he decided to lip read or just wing it.

And then there's Kate. Katie. Whatever he wanted to call her that day. Whatever Clint thought would annoy her that day. The spoiled one of their crew that somehow managed to get on board Carson's Carnival's train. And stayed there.

Which took them back to here. The train stopping for what was supposed to be a few days, put on a show for the country clubbers at some place called Kellerman's. Clints never actually stepped foot in any of the buildings there. Just did his routine and went back to the train. They were all packed up, ready to leave. And that's when Barney called.

Clint hopped off the car of the train and followed the older of them, Kate in toe. "Are we stuck? How can we be stuck? I knew I should've bought those coral shoes from the last city, I never buy enough shoes to last me a whole stay. I'm won't have enough to wear!"

Clint saw Barney suppress a roll of his eyes out of the corner of his own, mumbling something along the lines of "Ya brought ten pairs. This ain't a tragedy."

They stopped in front of Carson, a man with oil on his jeans, and a crowd of other performers.

"What do you mean it'll take _weeks_ to get this fixed?" The Ringmaster of their show shouted loud enough even Clint heard a few words of it. He looked to Kate, but the younger one didn't show any sign of wanting to translate. The man Carson was currently expelling every curse word he knew to was facing away from Clint, so whatever was stopping them was a mystery to him.

So he stayed silent, some groans around him from the performers and Kate even crossing her arms like a child to show her displeasure. He let conversation carry on until they all dispersed, Barney grabbing him by the jacket to go back to their cart. "What's going on?"

Barney sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he pulled himself up on the cart. Legs swung out from the wooden, metal-lined train. "We're stuck here for a while." He shrugged, grabbing Clint's trunk from behind him and tossing it to the younger. "Apparently someone jacked some part of the train. It's gonna take months to fix it. We're stuck."

"So?" Clint set down his trunk and leaned over it, staying on the ground with Barney towering over him on the train. "Where're we supposed to stay?"

The brother shrugged. "Carson's friends with the guy who owns this place, we can stay." Barney hauled off his own trunk and hopped to the ground. "Don't fuck anything up and we won't be sleeping in the cart, alright?"

Clint took the hit to the chest and nodded as Barney passed. "I know." He hauled his trunk to rest on his shoulder, turning to follow his brother and nearly running right into him again.

"Don't freak out on me." He warned, finger pointing to the archer. "You don't hear something just guess what they want you to say. You get in trouble you come to me, don't worry about Buck."

The blond boy nodded again. "I know."

"Good." Barney gave him a grin, a fist pounding into his chest again. "Enjoy yourself, it's the only vacation you'll ever get."

* * *

The employees of Kellerman's set them up as three people per cabin. Clint. Barney. Kate. A bunk and a single. They got away with saying they were all related.

"Katie's just a little sister." Barney gave the manager his most shit eating grin with an arm around the girl, ruffling her black hair. "Mom was...a little promiscuous, that's all. The sins of the father are not always the sins of the son, right?"

The cabin manager only hummed and checked them off as family.

Clint managed to stand the week of doing whatever activity Kate dragged him off to. Barely.

"One! Two! Three! Four! Stomp those grapes and stomp some more!" The dance instructor Kate so _brilliantly_ thought of shouted at the top of his lungs. He seemed too enthusiastic to be real, Clint missed half the steps.

Clint wasn't stupid, he knew how music worked, just was never able to really enjoy it. Step to the beat, he could hear a beat. Just not when everyone else was elderly, incompetent, wore socks with sandals, or just stepped off of the beat. Katie got really into it, trying to help him find the rhythm.

"One! Two! Three! Four! Listen to the music!" The instructor swayed his long jacket back and forth, showing the group of people under the gazebo how the steps should work. He was the same age as Clint, long hair tied back in a bun and the stupidest orange suit the carnie's ever seen, coming from his own opinion. The group stalled to start the other way, leaving Clint to step on someone's foot as Kate pulled him in the right direction. "One! Two! Three! Four! Dry your caboose and shake it loose! Stomp those grapes!"

People scattered as Clint lost Kate, relying on the instructor's lips. "Come on ladies! Follow me into a round-robin!" Women clung to the instructor's shoulders, Clint spinning helplessly. "Men! Inner circle!" Older guys grabbed the blond by the shoulder and dragged him around in a circle, kicking their feet to the music. There was something about maracas and shaking them, but by that Clint's eyes were on his feet.

"When I say stop!" The instructor shouted, shaking his hands to get attention. "Find the man or woman of your _dreams_!" Clint locked eyes with Kate, the instructor yelling stop and stepping right in front of Clint to steal his one hope of not looking like an idiot.

* * *

"I'm gonna look around the main house." The archer only alerted his brother to where he was going after he was already out the door.

The cabin wasn't big, but small enough for him to start getting stir-crazy. And after a near humiliating dance 'lesson' by the guy who was apparently a backup dancer for Elvis, he really wanted to be anywhere but around people he knew.

A path of stones laid out in front of the porch amused him for a moment, stepping on each of the slabs like he were a child again. The stones leading to the castle-like structure of the main house. Granite stone on the outside and lights illuminating each window. Porches stuck out on the second floor, with tables on them so people could look out to the lawn and the lake behind. Little red and white cabanas blocked the sun.

Clint trailed slowly on the porches, a few cabins before the woods, then the lawn. Kids of the rich families swam in the lake and over-enthusiastic employees made sure they were okay. Clint glanced into the dining hall, staying hidden behind a pole to watch the servers be lectured by some nephew or something of the owner of Kellerman's.

"There are two kinds of help here." Neil started with a smile, all the servers standing, looking almost bored, around him. "You waiters are college guys, and I went to Harvard and Yale to hire you. And why did I do that? Why?" He paused, tone getting slightly more aggressive. "I shouldn't have to remind you, this is a _family_ place. That means keep your fingers out of the water, hair out of the soup, and show the daughters and sons a good time...All of them." He pointed a finger. "Even the dogs. Schlep them out to the terrace, show them the stars. Romance them anyway you want!"

Clint rolled his eyes, at least explaining why the staff is so happy here. A crowd of men came through, a few girls. The head of which having the brightest red hair Clint's ever seen. Not counting the dye performers use.

"Got all that boys?" She smirked, sunglasses on even in the night's darkness and sleeve of her dress off her shoulder.

"Hold it! Entertainment staff! Hold it right there!" Neil Kellerman caught her by the shoulder, scowl on his face. Clint had to crane his neck to keep his eyes on their mouths. "Listen, wise asses, you people have your own rules. Dance with the kids. Teach them the mambo, the cha-cha, anything they pay for. And that's where it ends." He pointed a finger right at the girl as she put her head down, acting like the words bounced off her. "No funny business. No conversations. Keep your hands _off_!"

He pushed past the redhead and shoved a hand into another male's chest before storming off.

The waiters scoffed laughs at what Clint assumed to be the dancers, setting up table for the dining hall.

"Think you can keep that straight, Natasha?" One waiter teased her, the redhead rolling her eyes. "What you can and can't let lay their hands on you?"

She sighed as if she were bored, shaking her head. Clint raised a brow as she stepped towards the waiter, an almost intimidating presence. "Just put your pickle on everybody's plate, college boy. Leave the hard stuff to me." She placed a delicate finger on a carefully folded napkin, pushing it off the table.

* * *

Dinner was not as exciting or even relaxing as it should have been. The younger brother was currently leaning on the back of a chair, kicking his feet at the carpet. Katie, currently blabbering about some magazine she smuggled in when no one was looking, causing Barney to be the one wishing for the ever-being silence his brother had. They weren't usually trusted with actual money, but Carson had allowed some leeway for them for dinner, considering none of them were getting fed on their own. Barney was soaking it up, practically waving the cash whenever he counted it.

Tables were set up around the sides of the room, leaving a dance floor in the middle. Another Kellerman approached their table, a male about Clint's age in a nice waiter's uniform had a towel draped over his hand.

"This will be your waiter. Robbie Gould." Kellerman introduced the man, exaggerating his syllables while making direct eye contact with Clint. He rolled his eyes, catching Kate nearly swooning over the Robbie. "Planning on going to Yale."

"Wow." Kate put her head in her hands, Kellerman leaving the table for Robbie to take over.

"I hear you all are special guests of Max." He smiled, fakely. Clint was immediately tipped off, but Barney wouldn't let it go.

"Yeah." The older brother shrugged, acting as if they were always treated like this. "You should keep it in mind."

And they ate. And ate. Anything Robbie suggested, Barney wouldn't turn down.

"Look at all the leftover food." He slapped his brother like it were an accomplishment. Some of the beer bottles that were empty on the table shook with it. "There still starving children?"

"I'm sure somewhere." Clint shrugged, thinking of about thirty countrie he could've listed off. "Southeast Asia."

He's read a lot, sue him.

"Right." Barney scoffed, waving down the waiter. "My brother wants to send his leftovers to Asia. Wrap it up, alright?" He smirked, Robbie smiled uncomfortably. "Kid thinks he's gonna save the world."

Clint glanced to the floor. "And what is Kate here going to do?" The archer thought about throwing up at the flattery.

"Decorate it." He deadpanned, everyone looking to him.

"She already does." Robbie defended, Kate nearly melting in her seat.

Now, he wants to throw up.

Barney looked like he was going to.

* * *

Before anything disastrous was set in stone, the older brother carted himself off back to the cabin. Kate was swooned by this Robbie onto the dance floor, loud music being blasted by a band up front. Most of the tables were empty, but Clint still sat, watching people twirl around the floor.

A loud beat came on and two dancers stormed the floor. The man with the bun - the apparent back up dancer for Elvis - started dancing seamlessly with the redhead. Natasha. Clint cocked his head, watching them twist and dip and march to a step like they were one people.

"It's a mambo!" Someone shouted in his ear beside him, causing Clint to move back. A skinny guy, maybe the same age as him. Blonde, but with a welcomed air around him. "Sorry, Steve." He held out a hand, Clint shook it a little awkwardly.

"Clint." He shrugged, sitting back in his seat and watching the dancers again. "Who are they?" He glanced over.

"The dance people. Entertainment staff." Steve shrugged, but watched them appreciatively. "Bucky's my cousin, partner's Natasha Romanoff." He watched, only glancing to Clint occasionally.

The two dancers stepped around the floor as if they were practicing since the beginning of their lives. Stepping together, back and forth, twirling away from each other and back.

"They really shouldn't be showing off like that." Steve shrugged again. "It won't sell lessons. That's what they do, you know. Dance lessons. you dance?" Clint raised a brow and shook his head. The pieces clicked together in Steve's head, the message went out about the deaf guest, but Clint was already looking back to the floor.

Natasha's leg slung over Bucky's shoulder, he dragged her across the floor in what could only be years of trust. Out of the corner of his eye Clint saw Max Kellerman cutting his throat with his hand.

"Don't think your boss likes it either." He hummed, tapping his fingers on the table.

Bucky lifted Natasha off the ground in a practiced spin, seeing Kellerman in the corner and nearly dropping the redhead. They paused awkwardly, looking at each other before separating. The two found other dance partners, dragging people back on the floor.

"The Kellerman way." Steve scoffed, tapping Clint on the shoulder. "Come on, you wanna get out of here? I know a place." He smirked, getting up from the table for Clint to follow him.

A dirt path leads out of the main house, lighted by solar lights, a soft glow on the ground. It winded through the woods, Steve leading the way to a kitchen-type house. Grabbing three large watermelons.

"Wanna give me a hand?" He rolled one of the watermelons in Clint's arms, the archer raising a brow.

"Where the hell are we goin'?" He sighed, taking the watermelon as Steve led the way again. A large cabin was in sight now, on the top of hill. Lights coming from the top floor. Silhouettes from the windows cast shadows onto the dirt ground around the cabin. Trees seemed to move with the shadows and Clint didn't register Steve talking to him.

"Hey!" The blond hit him with his foot.

"What?"

"I said can you keep a secret?" Clint shrugged, then nodded. "Your ringmaster guy'll kill you. Max will kill _me_." He smirked, starting up to the cabin.

The music was deafening as they neared.

* * *

_**If you want me to continue the story - which I would love to do, but not sure if I want to put in all the effort - please review or favorite!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**The ever developing love story continues, at an admittedly slow pace...**_

* * *

Clint stared dumbly into the staff quarters cabin, some soul-filled music being pumped into the air as the dancers moved with each other.

In a rather...surprising way. Considering the rest of the staff's behavior.

Men and women, clinging to each other like it was the wedding night. Hands on asses, hips locked together as they rocked to the music. Women bending over to lock their legs around the men's waists and bending over. The guys twisted down so their faces were by their partner's waists and sang to the song.

The room was filled with smoke from God knows where, creating this steamy air around the dancers. Hotter than hell, even if the lights were turned low as if they were hiding, but very obviously dancing to very obvious music.

Clint adjusted his grip on the watermelon as Steve juggled to keep hold. "Where'd they learn to do that?" He yelled to the smaller one.

"Where?" Steve shrugged, using his legs to push up the watermelon. "I don't know. But everyone's doing it in the basements back home." He smirked, hitting Clint's shoulder. "Wanna try it? C'mon, guy." He laughed when the other shook his head. "C'mon."

Steve lead them through the crowd, Clint awkwardly sliding around the dancers. Girls threw the skirts of the dresses at their partner's, some winked at him. Other's spun around each other, putting legs over waists or over their shoulders. Backsides rubbed against him as the dancers stared him down, like they were challenging Clint.

He was just happy when they finally reached the other side of the cabin.

"Can you imagine dancing like this on the main floor? The home of the family fox-trot!" Steve barked a laugh, Clint kept glancing between him and the dancers. They set the watermelons down on the tables to watch. "Max would close the place down first!"

The archer huffed a laugh, two dancers from the main house barging into the room. Natasha, Bucky, walking in like they owned the cabin. The redhead took a bottle out of someone's hand and drank what was left in it. Bucky dragged her to the floor, immediately adapting to the style of everyone else.

Clint craned his neck to watch them.

She kicked her leg up to the beat, dress trailing down her thighs as Barnes shook his hips with her's. They were already sweating with the friction between them. Natasha trailed her hands through her hair, taking the red locks out of the perfectly placed pins. It fell down to her shoulders and twisted with her.

Bucky leaned back and Natasha turned away, dancing with another woman, swinging their arms to the song in sync like it was rehearsed. Bucky had two other guys holding him by the arms as he thrusted his hips into the air. Natasha backed up and the two men pushed Bucky against her, connecting their bodies again. They swung out their arms like they were swimming together as they rocked back and forth.

The chorus came back on and other dancers crowded the floor again, sometimes butting in with the two Clint was focused on. Sometimes girls would grab Natasha and swing their arms around again, all while Bucky stayed behind her.

"They look great together." Clint shrugged, rubbing his thumb into the palm of his hand.

"Yeah.." Steve nodded, crossing his arms with a grin on his face. "You'd think they were a couple."

Clint raised a brow, turning to really look at Steve to make sure he saw it right. "Aren't they?"

"Nah." Steve waved him off. "Not since they were kids."

Clint turned back to see Natasha sliding up Bucky's leg, the man pulling her up and then dropping her to do it again. She draped her arms around his neck, smiling before dropping back, bending so her hair was touching the floor, shaking her hips with his. Bucky laughed with his head back before pulling the red head up, lifting her until her knees were on his shoulders. Natasha wrapped her hands in the skirt of her dress, swinging it back and forth rapidly to the beat.

The music faded as the song ended, leaving Clint's range of hearing and Bucky dropped her back on stand on the floor of the cabin. People clapped and yelled and hugged each other, Natasha separating from Bucky as the next song started up. More yells of happiness as the dancing started again.

She trailed the floor, going from partner to partner, connecting easily with every dancer. Their hips were in sync and as soon as she was with them she left, moving on to the next.

Natasha glanced back to see Clint standing with Steve, moving gracefully across the floor to bump the little one with her hips. "Hey, sailor." She smirked, slinging an arm behind his back. "What's he doing here?" She nodded to Clint.

"Came with me." Steve shrugged, looking to Clint.

Natasha raised a brow expectantly.

Clint licked his lips, feeling her gaze as she were decided whether to kill him or dance with him.

"I carried a watermelon." The archer blurted out, immediately wanting to take it back.

She chose the unlisted, worse option. Rolling her eyes and leaving.

Clint put his face in his hands, Natasha strolling back over to Bucky.

He watched them dance, more organized steps with a few thrusts there, a violent twist of the head here. The music nearly shook the floor, he bounced a little to the beat as he watched them.

The crowd split in two as the pair made their way down the aisle created for them, Natasha locking eyes with Clint as she twisted with Barnes.

The archer stopped his bouncing, just aware that it was most likely off beat. Natasha stuck out a finger, very obviously to him and bent it towards her. She held out a fair hand and Clint glanced to Steve, somehow disappeared. He sucked in a breath through his nose and let the red head drag him out to the floor.

"Bend your knees." She advised, taking his by the hips and making them move in a circle. "Stay low." Clint swallowed and circled his hips awkwardly, glancing around to others around them. A hand went around his chin and pulled him back to look at Natasha, Clint's eyes trailed up her arm to her eyes. "Watch me."

Clint nearly snorted at how he twisted his hips, rolling his shoulders with her's as Natasha crept closer to him. "Good." She praised, draping an arm over his shoulder. "It's good. Now swing this way." They changed the motion of their hips, Clint clenching his teeth as she moved closer.

"Watch." She yelled to him, thrusting her hips up to his, Clint followed, a beat behind her, but he followed. "Good!"

Natasha laughed and locked her arms around his neck, moving her hips and forcing his to move with her. Clint grinned slightly and danced with her, rocking from one foot to the other as she moved him along. Natasha trailed her hands down his arms and bent back again, gracefully pulling herself up. Her arms locked on his neck again and the swung back and forth, jerking from side to side.

The song started to fade, Natasha leaving Clint to dance by himself. Others clapped around him and Clint stuttered to a stop, clapping dumbly as if he weren't just the last person to dance.

The blond huffed a laugh, brushing back his hair that gathered some sweat. He craned his neck to look for Natasha, but seeing nothing.

* * *

Another beautiful idea for an activity for the net day involved Kate had yet again dragging Clint with her. At least he didn't really have to participate.

A wig contest for female guests, he was just there for moral support.

By moral support, he sat in the plastic chair in the sand, digging his toes into the whiteness.

It wasn't too bad, he just sat silently next to her in the shade, a breeze from the lake kept him cool. But Barney decided it wasn't worth leaving the fancy air conditioned cabin to listen to Kate hum and drum about every wig. Clint didn't blame him either, but it was just easier to go with the younger archer.

He watched the sand fall over his toes and lifted up so it could pile back up on the ground. A tall shadow came up in front of him, and the girls trying on wigs. Bucky, a dark jacket draped over his left arm. Clint lickede his lips and sunk in his chair, not forgetting the other night.

"You look ten years younger." He flattered an elderly woman, walking around the table and wringing his hand together.

Clint moved his eyes back to Kate, Robbie Gould trailing up behind her. "Ask not what your waiter can do for you, but what you can do for your waiter."

"Robbie!" The younger girl shrieked, adjusting the bright, curly. blonde wig over her hair.

The waiter smiled. "You know, if tips keeps up, I'll have enough for an Alfa Romeo." He winked at the younger girl.

"That's my _favorite_ car." Katie blinked with the biggest eyes she could create.

Clint rolled his eyes in his seat, spotting Natasha move to sling an arm around Bucky's waist at the end of the table. "All you ladies look lovely." She smiled, Clint sat up in the plastic chair.

Kate hit his arm, making the archer look. "I said will you cover for me tonight?" She exaggerated her words. Clint shrunk again in the seat, glancing to Natasha only for Kate to hit him again. "Tell Barney I don't feel well or something?"

"Where're you goin'?" He shrugged a shoulder.

"The golf course." She shrugged, a little twinkle in her eye. "There's a pretty view from the first tee." The girl squeezed his shoulder as a thanks before Clint could even answer. Taking off her wig before abandoning him at the table.

Clint sighed, looking back to Natasha. "Thanks, Buck." She smiled at the taller man, giving him a peck on the cheek before turning to leave.

Clint swallowed, watching the red head go. He sucked in a breath and pushed himself out of his chair. He ran a hand through his hair, tapping Bucky on the shoulder to get attention.

"Were you really a backup dancer for Elvis?" He tried to seem like it wasn't blowing his mind. "I think you're a really good dancer."

Bucky shrugged a shoulder, organizing the wigs to keep his hands busy. "Parents kicked me out when I was younger. Dancing what I've been good at, it's all I've ever done."

Clint nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "I envy you."

Barnes scoffed, looking at the younger man before shaking his head. He closed whatever box he was working in and tucked it under his shoulder, leaving Clint in the sand.

* * *

Once Barney finally sobered up after a few days of living with money in his pocket, Clint was able to drag him out to a gazebo as a cover for Kate.

Paper lanterns lit the lawn, strung on the edge of the enclosure. The brothers sat on the railing, Clint hunched over and watching the dance instructors with their older students. Natasha among them.

An older man draped himself over her, hands on her sides and trailing up her back. They stood close and stayed that way, unnecessary for the dance they were currently doing. She was putting on a face, Clint could tell, let them climb over her for something he didn't understand. But he has seen her happy, she was happy with Bucky, she was happy when she was dancing for real.

"No dancing for you boys tonight?" Kellerman approached both the Bartons on the rail.

Barney shook his head, cracking a knuckle. "Not tonight."

"Oh, Max." The man clinging to Natasha called out for the owner, making a show of keeping his hands on her hips as she spun under his arm. "Are the dance lessons starting to pay off?" He smirked.

"Looks great, Ivan." Kellerman held up what Clint knew as the letter K, nodding to the dancers. "Terrific." He turned back to the men, blowing out a breath through pursed lips. "Ivan Petrivich. One of men who only come here on the weekends."

Clint raised a brow, Kellerman offering the information easily to them. Barney sat up to cross his arms, leaning against a support beam to listen to the owner.

"Wives think they come up with the guys every weekend, come to play cards." The older man shrugged, waving down the man who was currently studying Natasha's back as they danced elegantly. "Going back down on Monday?"

"Monday." He assured, not taking his eyes off the red head.

"He's away a lot." Max sighed, looking to Barney and Clint. "It's a hardship."

Clint averted his eyes, seeing Neil Kellerman come up to pull Natasha away from Ivan.

"Where's Barnes?" He asked the girl, Natasha shrugging innocently.

"What do you mean, 'where's Barnes' ?"

"James. Everyone's been asking for him all night." Neil pressed.

Ivan took Natasha's shoulder from behind, dancing even if she wasn't paying notice to him. "He's taking a break. He _needs_ a break." Clint watched her eyebrows crease as her tone got sharper.

Neil shook his head. "Make sure it's not an all-night break."

The nephew stormed out of the gazebo, Clint gritting his teeth and swinging his legs over the rail of the balcony. "I'm taking a walk." He muttered to Barney before jumping down to the lawn.

He heard the older one yelling something at him but he acted like it didn't register, starting to the dock on the lake.

Black in the night, Clint sat on the edge of the dock, hanging his feet over the end. Water tickled at his toes and he tried to imagine to crickets chirping in the woods next to him. Lights reflected off the small waves, different colors from the lanterns in the gazebo spreading wide over the water.

Clint sighed, flopping down to lay on his back. The brightness of the light hanging over him on the start of the dock flickered as two came out of the woods. Clint followed their shadows, eyes widening as Kate came out of the bushes.

She pulled up her sleeves, the blond squinted to see their mouths in the dark.

"..Wait-...apology, Robbie." He managed to catch Kate's harsh words.

Robbie trailed after her, rolling his eyes. "Keep dream-, Kate. Go back to serious (?)...wait."

Kate shook her head, pulling on a sweater and trailing her fingers through her hair. She shouted something Clint barely caught but didn't understand before running off. The waiter shook is head exasperated and jogged after her.

* * *

He eventually found himself in the kitchen, the shining thin metal softly reflecting the harsh lights overhead of the other side of the ovens.

The archer nearly ran into Neil Kellerman, attention focused on fingers tapping the tables.

"And what are you doing back here?" He pushed the younger back, Clint biting his lip.

"Hungry. Max said Carson's people can have whatever we want." He shrugged innocently, glancing purposefully towards the fridge. "I don't think he was lying to us."

The nephew of the owner hummed, looking over Clint. "Fine. What do you want?"

He put on an obviously fake tone, worse than the other employees. At least the others were convincing.

"Let's see…" Neil hummed and opened the fridge, facing away from Clint as he started listing off food items. The archer scoffed silently, scanning around the room. A few dark corner he could only imagine held rats, but what he landed on was something else.

Barnes.

Left arm held close to his chest, eyes locked with Clint and shaking as if he were going to throw up. He was breathing heavy, but Neil didn't seem to notice it. Clint squinted, leaning to peek over the shelves to see the dancer with his knees drawn up to his chest. The arm pinned behind his legs were barely visible, but Clint made out the nearly grotesque looking outline on the skin. Veins popping out, dark bruises Clint was familiar with around the joints. The dancer's eyes were red, almost sunken in.

"Neil." Clint interrupted the manager's listings. "I should check on Ka- my sister. She doesn't feel well, you know?"

The older boy raised a brow, opening his mouth. "I thought were-"

"I'll find something later." He lied easily, rolling off his tongue. Clint grabbed the man by the arm and tried as casually as he could to lead him out the kitchen.

* * *

Clint ran back over through the lawn once he got rid of the manager, finding Steve at the edge of gazebo. He rapidly spilled out what he saw, and the skinny employee pushed his way through the crowd of dancers to Natasha. He relayed the information, Natasha quickly excusing herself from the man currently over her to push out of the gazebo.

Clint followed to two, Steve and Natasha throwing conversation back and forth too quickly for Clint to keep up. "Hey," He called after, Natasha glancing back to roll her eyes before continuing on the path. "What's wrong with him?"

Steve stopped, holding a hand out to stop Clint in the chest. "It's some kind of...weird. Thing. Drug thing. Whatever it was, it's ripping him apart."

"Rogers!" Natasha hit him hard, Steve rubbing the spot. Clint took a step back, Natasha shaking her head before turning back again.

"What're they gonna do about?" He asked more, a few seconds after they started following each other again.

Natasha paused again, turning to shove him in the chest. " 'They'? Because it' my fault? Because I'm always with him it's my problem when he messes something up?"

"No- I," Natasha was already moving away.

* * *

"Bucky?" Steve called out when they reached the kitchen, Clint moving past them to lead the way.

The older man was in the same place, eyes screwed shut and teeth gritting against each other. He shook with pain and Natasha knelt down in front of him, whispering what Clint couldn't hear.

"Just hurts...I'll be fine." Bucky tried to assure them but Natasha shook her head. "I swear, I'll be...Natasha, I-"

The woman cut him off, grabbing his good arm and hauling him up. Steve took his other side and helped him out of the kitchen. "

"Don't be stupid. You'll be alright." Clint caught the words just as they passed him.

* * *

"You're in trouble, you come to me, alright?"

Clint sat on the edge of the couch, the three sat in one of the cabins, near the large one from the other night. Cleared out, couches spread out and lanterns lighting the small rooms. Bucky had a jacket draped over his shoulders, Steve pouring drinks and Natasha rubbing his shoulder.

"You should have come to us in the first place." She took him by the chin and made him look at the pills on the table. Clint assumed for pain, or hoping that they'd learned from the apparent last time.

The injured one shook his head. "Forget it, Romanoff. I'm not taking your salary….Wouldn't be enough anyway." He flicked the pills off the table, clenching his jaw as he reached for the bottle of whiskey from Steve. "Hopeless."

Clint fidgeted in his seat, running his hands over each other. "Can't be _hopeless_." He offered, Bucky turning to glare at him.

"You're one of the carnies, right?" He spat at the blond, Clint straightening out in the chair. "Yeah? Well you don't know shit about what's happening here, alright? So shut it."

Steve adjusted himself on the couch, putting his hands between his knees. "I told him."

"What?" Bucky hit his good arm on the table, glasses of whiskey shaking with the bottle. Clint flinched, Natasha only sighed. "Are you crazy? Now he's gonna tell his Ringmaster boss, and we're all gonna get fired!" Natasha put her hand on his arm, but he kept going. "Might as well write it in the sky, Steve. Bucky shot himself with Robbie's homemade bullshit!"

"Robbie?" Clint squinted, looking to see if he caught what Bucky was actually yelling about. "He-?"

"Clint." Steve stopped him, bolting up from the couch to grab his shoulder. "Look, look...one of the counselors knows a doctor. He's a _real_ M.D. He's supposed to be coming around here for just one day. Next week." Clint shot a look around the room, Bucky with his head in his hand, Natasha standing defensively. "We can get an appointment. But it's almost $250."

"Well, it's _Robbie_. There's not problem." Clint swung his arms out at the three. "The guy has money...If you tell him, and it's fault-"

"He knows, retard." Bucky stopped Clint in his tracks, the archer shoving his hands in his pockets and swallowing thickly. "No way he's gonna admit anything." The dancer shook his head, swirling the drink in hand. "Go back to your tents, carnie."

Clint let out a breath, shrinking back before the three and pushing out the door.

* * *

_**1) Never ask me to write a sexy dance scene again because it is difficult, man. 2) It's hard to figure out an arm-disease, so bare with me. **_

_**Reviews are love!**_


	3. Chapter 3

"So you think you're telling me what's right?" Robbie scoffed at Clint, dodging around another table to fill the glasses with water.

The blond followed around, holding the plate of bagels for the older boy. "They told me _you're_ the one who made the stuff for him, just-"

"Look." Robbie stopped him, taking a bagel and placing it perfectly on the plate. "I did _not_ waste a summer hauling toasted bread just to bail out some _dancer_ who's probably taking everything from everyone."

He tipped the plate Clint held with his fingertip to keep it from spilling.

"Some people count. Some people don't." He shrugged. "You're just lucky Kellerman has a thing with your boss. Otherwise you'd be on the other side."

Clint gritted his teeth, hands curling around the edges of the plate. "Stay away from my sister." He warned, dropping the bagels to sprawl on the floor.

* * *

Clint found Barney on the golf course, lining up a practice put.

"Hey," The older Barton greeted, making a show of spinning his club in his hand. "You realize we've never done this before?"

"Yeah, yeah." Clint shrugged him off, blurting out what he wanted to say. "Someone's in trouble."

"You mean besides us never playing golf before?" He smirked, taking a shot with the putter. Only a few feet from the hole, a perfect sink. "You're not the only one with perfect aim."

"And you told me if I was in trouble you'd help." Clint continued on, pushing him by the shoulder to make Barney look at him.

"Yeah, _you_." He pushed his brother in the chest. "If _you're_ in trouble. Not one of the other freaks in the show." Barney shook his head and lined up another shot.

"It's not them." The blond insisted. "I need $250. Can I borrow some?"

Now that made the older one look up, scanning his brother skeptically. "What'd you do?"

"It's not for me, I need it."

"Listen, it's a lot of money, Clint. What the hell'd you do?"

"It's not _me_." Clint pushed him by the arm. "I can't tell you, you gotta help me with this."

"It's Kate?"

"No."

Barney squinted, Clint rolled his eyes.

"Or if you want I can show Carson all the bottles of booze in the cabin and tell _him_ exactly where the money's going." The archer crossed his arms, cockng his head to the side. He raised a brow expectantly.

"I'll have it before tonight."

* * *

Clint barely managed to remember where the staff cabin was.

He didn't have Steve to run into and he couldn't ask around, so he followed trails until he found the soft lights and blaring music. People danced the same way they did the other day, but slower and smoother to the song overhead.

The archer wormed his way through the crowd of people, waving some of the smoke away in the room. Bucky and Natasha danced in the corner, not taking up as much spotlight as they usually did. Clint awkwardly rocked on his feet for a moment, watching them cling to each other. Barnes had his arm wrapped, hiding whatever gruesomeness by passing it off as a compression sleeve.

"Hey," He goaded them, taking Natasha by the arm for only a moment before she sent a glare his way. "C'mere." Clint left them away from the dance floor as they separated.

"What?"

"I have your money." He shrugged, digging the bills out of his pocket. A rubber band held them tightly together.

Bucky's brow furrowed. "Robbie gave this to you?"

"No." Clint shook his head, shoving his hands into his sleeves. "You were right about him. He's a piece of shit."

"You steal it?" Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"No..you, you said you needed it." The blond shrugged.

"It this kid for real?"

"Yeah." Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms. "Takes a saint to ask someone else for it."

Clint shifted in his spot, glancing to the floor before the sound of Bucky's garbled speaking caught up to him.

"Thanks kid." He shrugged, holding it back out. "But I can't use it. We have an act on Thursday night at the Sheldrake. The only appointment's for Thursday night." The older man sighed, looking around. "If we cancel we'll lose this year's salary and next year's gig."

"What's the Sheldrake."

"Another hotel. Where we do a mambo act."

"Someone could fill in for him."

"_Look_, Mr. Fix-It." Natasha butted in again, hitting his shoulder. "Someone else could _not_ fill in. Steve's incompetent when it comes to his feet, Tony's working all day, and Bruce has to fill in for Bucky. _Everyone_ has got to work." The red head swallowed, laughing some at the blond. "What, you want to fill in? Take time off from Simon Says with the freaks?"

Clint looked at his feet, shifting his weight as Bucky started again.

"It's not a..._horrible_ idea." He shrugged.

Natasha stared at him. "It was a joke."

"He can move." Bucky offered, hitting Clint's shoulder.

"That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard, James."

"I can't dance." The archer scoffed.

"He can't even _hear_." Natasha threw her arms out at him, Clint shrugged in acceptance.

"She's not lying."

"You're a strong partner, Nat." Bucky insisted, looking to the younger. "You can lead _yourself_, all the kid's gotta do is step around you."

"You heard him, James. He can't hear anything, he can't dance." She shook her head, running a hand through her curls. "He can't do it. There's no way on this Earth that he could do this. He can _not_ do it."

Clint pursed his lips.

* * *

"_No_!" Natasha scolded him for the third time, Clint stepping back without her. "You don't step on the one, you step on the two. I told you. I'd blink on the one, _then_ you step back and keep counting."

"Sorry." Clint forced out, rolling his eyes and resetting his position. He lined up with her frame, one hand out and the other on her waist.

"It's 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4. The music starts. I blink. You say 'two' in your head and move back. Do not step as I blink."

"Alright. Got it." Clint held up his hands, Natasha grabbing them with strength.

"Frame." She looked in his head, hearing the music in her own ears and blinking. He lifted his foot. "No." She warned, pausing a few seconds before stepping again with him. "There."

She stepped back, he stepped forward with her. She stepped forward, his foot crushed her toes. "Ow." She scolded.

Clint groaned in frustration.

* * *

"2, 3, 4. 2, 3, 4."

Natasha held one hand on his waist and the other on his back, Clint forced to watch himself waddle awkwardly in the mirror. Twist your hips, she told him. He tried.

"Should-ers back! Don't look down!"

She spoke to the rhythm of the music, adjusting him every other beat.

"2, 3, 4. 2, 3, 4. 2, 3, 4. 2, 3, 4. 2, 3-"

A hand grabbed him by the chin and forced Clint to look up again. The archer dropped his arms from the frame he held and pushed her away, scrubbing his hands through his hair.

"Again." She pressed, forcing his arms back up. "Concentrate."

* * *

There was a bridge in front of the staff cabin away from everyone. Everyday, standing like a duck in the middle of the bridge was Clint.

Arms out in the frame position and stepping awkwardly. Twisting the ankles, stepping forward and back. Counting in his head. Keeping his head up. Shoulders back.

Up the steps, he counted, moving his feet.

* * *

"Keep your chin _up_." Natasha locked her hand around his jaw. Making him look. "I can't talk to you if you don't look at me."

"Wow. Never thought of that." Clint maintained eye contact, even with her glaring.

"Steps aren't enough." She hummed, sticking her nose up as they spun as the routine said. "You need to feel the music."

"Tell me when you figure that out, I'd love to know how."

"It's a _feeling_, Barton." She stopped, pushing his arms out for him to drop them. "A heartbeat." She put her hand over her heart, waiting for Clint to mirror her. "Ga-gung." She tapped twice. "Ga-gung."

Clint slapped his chest stupidly, only half on purpose.

"Don't try so hard." She shook her head, speaking softer. She grabbed his hands, putting them over her heart. "Ga-gung." The red head raised a brow, a soft smile.

Clint glanced from her chest to her eyes, nodding.

"Now step with me." She patted the top of his hand to her heart beat. "2, 3, 4." Natasha started lightly, Clint stepping with her. "2, 3, 4. Breathe." She smiled.

Clint didn't take his eyes off her's.

* * *

"Head up." Natasha tapped his chin once again, but they didn't stop their smooth steps to the music. "Lock your frame."

Clint clenched his jaw, tightening the muscles in his arms, sweat running down the sides of his forehead. The middle of summer now raged their dog days, and the cabin, like most, didn't have an air conditioner. But it was private, surrounded by the woods and only one side open to the lawn. Bucky stood in the corner, casually holding his arm against his chest as the two danced.

"Spaghetti arm." Natasha scolded, dropping her frame to readjust. "Look." She gestured to the space between her open arms. "My dance space," She held up his arms to be in position. "Your dance space. "I don't go into your's, you don't go into mine. You have to _lock_ your frame. Again."

She nodded to Bucky, who dropped the needle on the record and moved to stand behind Clint. Hands adjusted the archer's shoulders, straightened out his waist. Bucky put one hand on his back and the other on his hip, making sure Clint stayed in the correct place as Natasha started moving again.

Clint smiled at Natasha, who only nodded in approval as they stepped on the beats.

* * *

She made him practice holding his arms over her head as she twirled, pushing his arm up whenever it nicked the top of her head.

She yelled and forced his chin up whenever he didn't look at her.

She made sure his arm was locked whenever she needed to hold him while she twisted.

She made him wear the shoes he'd be wearing for the show.

She made Bucky dance with him to make sure he did it just like Bucky.

She placed her hands over his waist to make sure they were moving right.

But mostly, she just made sure he didn't screw up her chances of getting paid.

* * *

"Back. Easy." She guided him through each steps, rain thundering down on the cabin and thunder occasionally shaking the floor. "I turn, -urn. Watch me!" She yelled in the middled. "Down. Lift - we'll do that later, come on," Natasha lifted herself on her toes momentarily to fake a lift and continued on with the steps. "Down, I twist, Watch!" The dancer yelped as Clint let go of her hand, sending her down to bend her ankle awkwardly to keep from falling.

Clint backed up as soon as he dropped her, more worried about a backlash attack than his mistake. "Sorry, I-"

"Are you trying to kill me?" The red head pulled herself back up, rubbing the ankle that had bent awkwardly when she fell. "You have to _concentrate_, is this your idea of fun?"

Clint sucked in a breath and shook his head. "Oh, _yeah_. As a matter of fact it is." He ran his hands through sweaty blond hair. "We're supposed to do the show in two days, you won't show me lifts, I'm not sure about turns, I'm doing all this to save _your_ ass, when I really just want to drop you on it."

The archer scoffed and turned on his heel, pacing lightly around the shed-like storage cabin.

Natasha grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her, but no scold ready at her tongue.

"Then let's get out here."

* * *

_**Like sexy dance scenes, montages are also difficult to write**_


	4. Chapter 4

"I locked the keys in the car!" Natasha shouted fruitlessly over the rain, water pouring down her rain jacket as she left Clint to get soaking in front of the car. Clint didn't have the attitude to tell her yelling wasn't going to help any. "Get me that post,"

She crossed her arms, Clint not bothering to argue and digging his foot into the mud to loosen one of the light posts buried in the ground. He yanked it out with relative ease, the circus labor - among other things - giving him strength. Natasha took it from him before he could ask, swinging the post into the back window of the car.

"Jesus!" Clint half laughed, glass shattering as Natasha unlocked the car from the inside through the window. Natasha only sighed, throwing the post away to open Clint's door for him.

The archer didn't move, letting the rain pour over him as Natasha rolled her eyes. "You're getting wet, right?" She urged him in the car, albeit a little condescendingly. She slammed the door once the archer was in the car.

She smirked at him from the driver's seat, zipping through the narrow roads of Kellerman's. Clint laughed, shaking his head at her. "You're crazy." He huffed, rubbing at his ears.

"What?" She shouted again over the rain pounding at the windshield.

"You're crazy!" He shouted with her, laughing again as her smirk faded into a smile.

* * *

Eventually the rain slowed to a stop, leaving the thick trees dripping with wetness and dirt roads turned into mud. Natasha drove them into a forest, peeling off her shoes and making Clint do the same.

The archer perched himself on a toppled log, bare feet easily finding their place as he hardened his stance, holding out his arms. "Just like a trapeze." He mumbled to himself.

Natasha climbed up next to him, standing face to face with her arms out like his. "Now," She started, pulling his chin up to look at her and catch her words. "The most important thing to remember in lifts,"

"Is balance." Clint finished for her, smiling some. The words had been etched in his mind ever since him and Barney found the circus.

"Exactly." She smiled with him, quickly twisting it into a smug grin and bent her knees. Clint frowned seconds before she sprang up, landing hard on the log like a poised ballerina.

"Whoa.." Clint stumbled but quickly regained his footing, just like she did as the log wobbled beneath them. He laughed again as she stepped back to find her balance, falling on his backside on the log with the distraction.

"You do have it." She praised, knowing the fall was purposeful. "I've seen you training, with those men. You do have balance, and you do have talent. You just need to figure how to use it for dancing."

Clint sighed, looking away when she finished to the woods around them. He didn't tell anyone he was leaving, it was too rash of a decision. The mention of Buck and Jacques did poke his stomach. He'd skipped out on his trainers two times already for a practice with Natasha. He doubted Barney, or even Kate, would cover him anymore.

"Where'd you learn to dance?" Clint changed the subject from him, turning to Natasha still standing on the log.

"Well," She sighed, gracefully dropping down on the log to face him properly. "I was small, I wanted to do ballet. You know, typical girl." She shrugged, but Clint was hooked on her words. "Snuck into a few lessons, learned the moves. Dragged James in with me sometimes to watch from behind the curtains. We learned together.

"When I was old enough, I only knew a few things, but I was able to get a job here as a waitress. A guy came into the kitchen one day, and we were all sitting around doing nothing. And he said, Arthur Murray, was giving a test. To dance instructors. So, if you passed, they'd teach you all these different dances. Break them down, show how to teach them to others."

She shrugged again, lifting to her feet on the log. Natasha paused for a while, and after wiggled to music Clint couldn't hear, and guessed that she couldn't hear it either. "What are you-"

"C'mere." She hooked a finger at him, pulling him up. "How good are you really at at balancing?" She said it as a challenge, holding out a frame for Clint to match her, stepping back on the log and having him follow.

Clint laughed and followed her, stepping easily on the small surface as she danced more intricate moves around him.

Eventually the laughs turned into childish giggles, Natasha's dancing turning into something more like what a monkey would do. And Clint's being something even more atrociously bad.

* * *

"Okay." Natasha started, both of them of them now standing in an open field with only tall grass around them. "Lock your knees." Clint followed, facing her with his arms out like he's catching a ball. "And trust me. You'll hurt me if you don't trust me. You're strong enough to lift me, just act like it's a show."

Clint nodded, standing how she showed him as she started towards him. He grabbed her waist and lifted, Natasha bending before he could lock his elbows. He ended up almost throwing her over her head. She shouted something he couldn't process, probably something about him almost dropping her, but he didn't. Caught her so they ended up in a pile together on the ground.

"You...cr-s(z?)-? ... -st f-... pped me!"

Clint wasn't able to catch every single words she said, but it was pretty simple to put together what Natasha was saying. The redhead got up, brushing off her pants before starting to pace around Clint, still on the ground. He watched her shoulders smoothly relax as she placed a hand on her forehead. She circled Clint one more time before stopping before him, an inch from blocking the sun behind her, and sending it right into Clint's eyes.

The archer slapped a hand over his brow to block the sun, eyes squinting just in time to catch the last word of her sentence.

"..wet."

Clint blinked dumbly at her. _Say what you think they want to hear._ Barney's words rung in his head.

"Yes?"

Natasha dropped her arms, stepping that inch needed to block sun from his face.

"I said, the best place to practice lifts is in the water. You can drop me all you want, all that happens is we get a little wet."

* * *

Her brilliant idea brought them back to camp, but in a more secluded area. A 'private area for private swimming lessons' that was hardly ever used anymore. Surrounded by thick woods, a fog from the storm that happened only hours ago concealing them.

Natasha repeated herself as they faced each other in the water. "You're strong enough to hold me."

"Right." Clint shrugged, holding out his arms.

She started towards him. The archer's hands caught her waist as she jumped and he lifted over his head. He let out a breath, hearing her shout something over him but having no way of figuring out what. They did establish a system. Right toes bent if they were good, left toes bent if something was wrong. He stared at her feet, now bare as his were in the water, and a smiled graced his lips as the right toes curled in.

They repeated the move, Clint's arms eventually wearing out to the point of dropping her every other time. The last, he fell back into the water with her, expecting a command of 'do it again' when he surfaced.

He found her laughing instead.

Whatever water had gotten in her mouth was spit out by her laughing, staying so her shoulders just peaked out of the water. Clint watched her for a few short seconds before eventually chuckling too, which in turn made her laugh harder, and the same with him.

She pushed herself towards him, pulling her hair back from her face and pushing Clint's away from his. "I'm sorry." She laughed, shaking her head. "That one was me."

The carnie shrugged, not moving away when she brushed his sopping hair back. "Gettin' tired anyway."

Natasha laughed again, and Clint's ears caught wind of the garbled noise from her being so close to him.

Warmth pooled in his stomach at the sound.

* * *

"I can't believe this is tonight." Clint wrung his hands together, fingers cracking at the tension and making Bucky look.

The two were walking up to the dance lesson cabin, an old couple walking out as they walked in. Light filtered through the white wood of the dressing/locker room, Bucky wasting no time before handing Clint the suit he were to wear. Expensive threads, more intricate weaving than his costume for Carson's shows. Not that Clint really _loves_ to show that off.

The archer created his frame as Bucky behind him pinned a few things so the suit would fit.

"I'll keep my shoulders down, my head up..frame locked. Stay on the toes..." He went through the seemingly endless laundry list of rules for dancing. "What if I forget what to do?" Clint sighed, dropping his arms to the side.

Bucky rounded him, shrugging his good shoulder and facing him like Natasha told him to do. "Just watch Nat. She's a strong partner, you don't even have to lead."

"I'm gonna fall on my face." Clint scoffed, rubbing an ear when Bucky circled him again. "No..I-, I'll not look down, eyes open-"

He stopped himself when Bucky tapped his arm, really looking at the archer.

"Thanks, Clint." The older said quietly.

The blond dropped his arms to look at him properly.

Bucky swallowed thickly. "Look, I don't want you to think I...I don't know. I'm not one of those guys who needs something to get through the day, or I'll just take whatever I could get. Whatever Robbie told you, it was a bad moment and I thought I could trust him." He paused, waiting to see if Clint gave him a reaction, but the archer kept his face blank. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know that."

Clint blinked, silently letting out a breath. He let the silence lap between them for a second, before nodding and holding out his arms, suit fitted around him. "Looks good?"

Bucky scoffed, lip shaking just the slightest as the small smile fell. "I'm nervous."

"About me?"

The older stayed quiet. "About everything." He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Don't be." Clint told him, almost automatically. "You'll be fine. Me and Natasha'll be fine….You'll be fine."

Bucky shook his head, hand going up to push his hair back without a word. Clint saw his adam's apple bob in his throat.

"You'll be fine."

* * *

Clint swallowed as he watched men and women parade into the bingo-building.

Dressed nicely, all of them, two by two marched through the door a waiter held open. Soft light from the building's windows only showed their highlighted features. Clint spotted Kate among them, black hair tied up to show a necklace the blond doubted was actually her's, smiling at the waiter by the door.

"..later?" Clint read the last word on his lips and the younger nodded, red trailing up the back of her neck.

The waiter let her through the door, Clint pushed past the couples to catch Kate by the arm. "You just gotta do one thing for me." He was almost pleading.

Kate barely bothering to look at his face before she was shaking her head. "I don't just gotta do anything, Clint." She scoffed, looking behind her as if she were nervous.

Clint ignored her. "Just tell Barney I got a headache, I'm in bed. Don't bother to check on me. Okay?" He smiled innocently before pushing back through the door, acting like he couldn't hear whatever she may have shouted to him.

* * *

Clint was almost shaking as him and Natasha stood on the darkened stage. A PA system overhead was red like someone was speaking over it, but the sound didn't even register. Natasha was positioned like they practiced, and the light was suddenly blinding him.

His eyes adjusted just in time to see her blink, forcing his foot to stay where it was until the counting in his head was synced with her blinking, and he stepped with her.

They showed off the simple moves they practiced so many times throughout the week, Clint twisting his heels and holding her hand to spin whenever it was called for. He felt the speakers through the stage on his feet, but he couldn't find a pulse. All that he could do was really hope his counting was right.

They pivoted across the stage, stepping together and Natasha nodding ever so slightly. Her smirk was one only put on for the show, and other people taking lessons with her. The redhead spun, looking at him for the moment they had to breath. "Relax." Her lips told him.

He listened, shoulders relaxing some but frame locked again within the next panicked look she sent him. Clint remembered what she taught him, letting her spin and using the time to recuperate, remember, and start stepping again.

They separated, Natasha doing her steps and Clint fumbling through his.

"Here!" She mouthed to him, Clint awkwardly making something up to glide towards her again and fall back into step. "Lift time." She whispered, pulling away from him.

A brighter light hit his back, casting a shadow that made him look ten times bigger than her. For the first time Clint's chest clenched, stomach churning as she started towards him. His hands collided with her waist but didn't move upwards as she sprung, leaving Clint to step away from her to avoid being landed on.

His breath caught in his throat, he saw the same nervousness in Natasha as they realized their mistake. He didn't lift and she didn't know how to fill the time.

"It's okay." She pushed the words out of her mouth and grabbed his hands, pushing him back to leave her room to spin on her toes a few times. "Keep going," She urged, falling into steps Clint recognized.

They ended the song, people clapping enough for Clint to feel it in the wooden stage, but pulled away from it soon after.

* * *

Clint felt like jumping out of the car as they rode home.

He pulled at his suit as Natasha drove, rain hitting the windshield around them. The nice fabric was sweaty as he pulled it off. Natasha drove with one hand and let her hair down. She pushed his arm with his free hand so Clint would look.

"You did good." She praised, darting her watch from the road to him. "Worked hard, we did good."

Clint let a breath, sitting back against the seat.

"By the second turn, you really had it." She smiled, almost looking sympathetic but quickly turning it genuine.

Clint shook his head, pulling the casual shirt over his head. "I didn't lift you."

"You did really well." She insisted, watching him climb over to the front passenger's seat right after the words left her mouth.

He watched her carefully, the window still broken from their last time in the car, blowing wind around them. Natasha's hair flew wildly around her face, curls brushing past her chin as she shook them away. Smooth skin almost shining in the dark, her shoulders curving into her arms as slender fingers curled around the wheel. Clint glanced towards the radio, a soft station playing that didn't reverberate enough through the speakers. The tension in his shoulders slowly melted away.

Natasha glanced towards him, soft light of headlights illuminating his features. A little disheveled, but she supposed that was the way he always was. But strong, Strong shoulders and strong arms and strong facial features in general. His eyes were striking, an odd color in the dark and a storm of blue and gray in the light. After having to insist he keep those eyes on her she couldn't help notice. The redhead smiled before turning back to the road.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Little bit of a shorter one, but some heavy stuff happens**_

* * *

"Natasha!" As soon as the two had rolled back up to the staff cabins, Steve was racing towards them.

The redhead slipped out of the car, squinting in the dark to see Steve sprinting across the line of cabins, Clint following her eyes to the boy. Natasha slammed her door, moving over to put her hands on the gasping Steve's shoulder.

"You're going to hurt yourself, what it is?" She said slowly, Clint moving to see both of them clear under the light on the doors of the cabins.

"Come on," He wasted no time, pulling at Natasha's wrists to follow. Clint saw the worried lines etched in his face. "It's Bucky."

* * *

Other staff members were standing around, as if they were keeping guard of Bucky's cabin. Steve and Natasha squeezed through the door, pushing past other's.

"Waited...you..-ot back." The archer didn't catch everything but had a feeling he shouldn't ask for a repeat. Natasha mumbled something, Clint caught the heat but not the words, looking back to Steve. "He said they'd call the police. He made me promise."

Clint finally tore away from their faces, looking to the brunet on the bed. "Holy shit." The words left his mouth without a filter as he took in the scene.

Coated in sweat and past the point of tears, Bucky lie in the bed. Hair slicked back and wet, Natasha didn't hesitate to sit beside him and wrap his single hand in her's. Red stained across the left side of the bed, leading to a stump of what remained of his left arm, a sloppy, blood-stained coating of bandages lazily wrapped around the amputation.

Clint heard Steve start talking next to him and he whipped his head around the see.

"..use no ether. Nothing."

"I thought you said he was a _real_ doctor." Clint scoffed, not caring what his place was.

Steve made a show of looking towards Clint. "The guy had a dirty knife and a folding table. I heard him _screaming_ from the hallway." He moved again as Steve turned back to Natasha. "I swear to God, I tried to get in. I tried to help him-"

Clint didn't see what else was said, he turned to start out the door. Running back down the stone steps from the staff cabins and the little white bridge back to the resident's portion of Kellerman's. He sprinted the rest of the way to his own cabin, bursting through the door and nearly ripping the screen.

"Barney." He shook the older brother awake, watching him blink the sleep away.

"What-"

Clint turned again, grabbing one of their bags out of the trunks and tossing it into his chest. "You remember when you used to stitch me up? And when one of stagehands lost his foot?" Barney nodded, wheels in his head starting to turn. "This is something like that."

They ran barefoot back to the staff cabins, Barney pushing people out of the way like he was some kind of professional doctor. Clint stood back, Natasha moving away to send him a questioning look. He only nodded in return.

"Who's responsible for this kid?" Barney turned towards them, Natasha turning away from Clint to own up. "Everybody outta here." He barked at all of them.

They filed out to the porch, all glancing towards the light of the cabin throughout their waiting, like it'd go out any second. Most sitting in front of the steps or perched like cats on the railing. Steve paced rhythmically and kicked up dust.

Natasha was on Clint as soon as she stepped out, cornering him in front of the door.

"Does he know what the hell he's doing?"

Clint swallowed some, not backing down when she invaded his space. "He's done it before."

"When would he _ever_ do anything like this-"

"The circus isn't as happy as people would think." He spat at her, if only to get her to listen. His tone softened. "People get hurt, we can't always pay for real doctors and he's the only one who knows how to stop bleeding fast enough."

Natasha stared for a few moments, relaxing her stance before moving away.

They waited a while longer, Clint leaning against the door of the cabin as if he could hear through it. When the lock released and the wood shook he pushed off it, Barney not even bothering to look at any of the staff before grabbing Clint by the shirt, dragging him away from the cabin.

"That's what my money paid for?" He questioned harshly, once they were back at the bridge at the bottom of the steps.

"I didn't lie to you." Clint neglected to mention that technically it was his money, but he really wasn't in the best position to piss him off.

Apparently it didn't work. Barney turned on his heel and shoved him hard in the chest, Clint stumbling back a step. "What part of 'don't fuck anything up' wasn't clear?" Clint frowned, Barney pressed on. "All you had to do was eat some food, play some golf. Go swimming, follow Kate around, I don't care. I've covered for you from Buck all week, Jacques gonna be coming up soon and I am _not_ gonna be there when you miss another practice and he finds you."

"Barney-"

"Don't ever be around those people again." He cut off his brother's plea. "You're lucky they won't be tellin' anyone or we're _out_...Do you get that? We'd be done for, 'Amazing Hawkeye' or not."

Clint tried again. "I didn't-"

But the older brother already turned back to the cabin.

* * *

The archer let out a breath, shoulders sagging as he knocked on the cabin door. Deliberately disobeying or not, he had words to say. Natasha opened the door sooner than he thought, only halfway clothed and hair disheveled, she swallowed and Clint saw how red her eyes were.

"Can I come in?"

She opened the door further and let him enter himself. Her cabin was small. Three paneled windows with the curtains blocking any view to be seen, two rugs on the ground filled with dust and looking older than Natasha herself. Furniture that definitely was just whatever the camp could afford and a single swinging light to illuminate the room.

"I.." Clint turned to face her through garbled sounds. "I guess it's not a great room, I bet you have a good room." She forced out quickly, nose twitching as she sniffed.

"It's a great room." Clint assured, standing awkwardly in the center. Natasha shook her head and moved some clothes off an old chair, Clint sitting after a gesture. She moved to take a needle off of the record Clint didn't know was playing. "Leave it on." He insisted, shrugging at her look.

He took a breath, Natasha moving to sit at the edge of her bed. For the first time she seemed to make herself small, running her fingers through her hair and sighing.

"I'm sorry." Clint started. "About my brother. He's-"

"He's great." She insisted, running a hand over her shoulder. "He was great. He..he knew what to do. He took care of James. He.."

"It's me it has to do with." Clint interrupted, continuing their game of insistencies. "My brother...me and my brother, it's not really easy. I mean, the circus is the only place we really have, and I might have just messed it up. I've been keeping him on just because he's my brother and I thought I owed him something, but-"

"No." Natasha swallowed, scoffing like she couldn't believe it. "He _saved_ James. He didn't even flinch, and I..I did nothing. I didn't know what to do, I could just..I could never do anything like that. People treat me like I'm not nothing because I am nothing."

"That's not true!" Clint told her. "You..You're eveything."

"You don't understand Clint...The way it is, for someone like me. Last month I'm eating jujubes to stay alive, this month men are..men are taking me to their rooms with beautiful views and beautiful clothes and shoving _diamonds_ into my pockets. I'm balancing on shit and I could be right back down there again in a second."

Clint shook his head. "It doesn't have to be like that. I know. I've been there, and I've fixed it before."

Natasha sighed, almost like she was tired. A smile graced her lips as she faced him again. "I've never met anyone like you. Looking at the world and you think you can make it better. Someone's hungry, you feed them and if someone's bleeding you-"

"I get my brother to save me, I know. Really brave, like you said."

"Well I was wrong!" Natasha shouted. "It took guts to go to him, I see it now. You're not afraid of anything."

"Me?" Clint almost laughed. "I'm scared 'a everything! I'm scared of what I saw, what I did. What I did with you, what I'm doing to my brother. I'm scared of not hearing everything, of getting left, of missing, of who I am!"

He let out a breath, Natasha smooth her hair against her neck.

"And most of all..Jeez, most of all I'm scared of leaving this room, and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel with _you_."

He clenched his jaw, Natasha looking at her feet. They stood for a few moments, silent in the room as the record spun in the corner. Clint stood and took her hand, pulling it up to mimic a frame.

"Dance with me?"

She finally looked up to him, glancing around the room. "What, here?"

"Here."

The redhead slowly started to smile, fingers wrapping around his hand and other crawling up his chest to rest on his neck. She tapped the rhythm of the music for him, Clint stepping close enough so he had fold his neck to see her lips. She swung their hip to the beat. Slow, smooth movements as she pressed her lips close to his neck, Clint resting his chin against her temple as they moved.

His hands moved up her back, her's on his neck and running through his hair. Her fingers massages rhythmically through the blondness and pulled him down to her eye level, leg creeping up to wrap around his waist. Lips ghosted over each other until Clint leaned forward the inch needed to connect. They soaked each other in, Clint closing his eyes as his fingers curled against her back, breathing in the scent of everything.

Natasha pulled back first, keeping them swinging to the music as she raised his arms above his head, pulling his shirt off with it. Skin from her stomach and chest melted with his as they danced, Natasha bending back and Clint leaning forward to kiss her neck, hands trailing back to her back. Natasha stepped back as she lifted from her bend, hands going to pull Clint by the pants backwards with her.

He followed her steps, kissing her temple through the sea of red that was her curls, letting her guide him back towards the bed.

* * *

**_I love reviews!_**


	6. Chapter 6

Barney didn't say a word to Clint during breakfast the next morning.

It was a nice day, one of the nicest ones since they've been at Kellerman's. Sun shining but it wasn't unbearably hot like it had been in Natasha's cabin or while they practiced. They sat on the balcony of the main building, nice doily-styled table clothes draped over their laps Ferns hung over the railing of the balcony and the occasional wind swept a few leaves onto the ground.

Clint had stared holes into his brother's unknowing body as he sipped on orange juice. Some waiter dropped a flyer at their table, the bright green words catching Clint's eye.

'Singers, dancers, actors, this is your lucky day! Auditions for the annual Kellerman's End of the Season Talent Show, beginning in the playhouse. Drop by..'

He'd stopped reading, the waiter speaking over them as he thumbed through the rest of his flyers. "..going to show?"

"We're leaving soon." Barney assured, ripping at his croissant with his teeth. He looked directly at Clint. "Train should be ready."

Kate placing her cup down on the table just harsh enough to shake it. "And miss the show?" She scoffed, Barney rolled his eyes but she continued on. "We can't leave!"

"Well it's not my decision!" He barked.

"I was going to sing." Kate countered, as if what she wanted to do would automatically stop them from leaving.

"It is the big event!" The waiter insisted, clapping Barney on the shoulder. "People bring their own arrangements, you don't want to miss it."

Clint sat back in his chair with a sigh. Kate argued some with Barney but he didn't pay attention, watching the lake's waves ripple on the front.

A tap on the shoulder made him look, seeing that it wasn't a tap at all. Barney had gotten up, Kate moving to follow at hitting him on the way. "I'm seeing Carson about this, we won't leave!" He caught her words as they moved, sighing before getting up himself, leaving his food uneaten.

* * *

It was still nice by the time he managed to get up to the staff cabins.

Over that white bridge and up the hill, past where he danced for the first time, and where they found Bucky just last night. The ones where the staff actually lived and slept where lined up tightly next to each other, painted a dark red and each looking exactly the same besides whatever items may be lying on the porch before the door.

He knocked on Bucky's door, before shaking his head and entering whether he was allowed to or not.

"Hi," Clint greeted quietly, the older boy wrapped up in some flannel on his bed. "You..you look much better." He nodded to him.

And it was true. The stump that was now his left arm was almost staring Clint right in the face, but it was clean now. Neat bandages wrapped it up and the red stains of blood were gone from the sheets. His hair pulled back into a bun instead of stringy and wet as he rested.

"Yeah?" Bucky shrugged, leaving his injured arm steady. "You just missed your brother."

"He was here?" Clint sounded surprised, but he didn't feel it. "Yeah, no. Good. He knows what to do, and he won't tell anyone." The blond swallowed thickly, pulling up a rickety stool to sit on and ringing his hands together. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"

"You couldn't have." Bucky assured, shaking his head. "No one knew, it's not your fault." The man on the bed looked towards the door, Clint followed his gaze to see Natasha step in the cabin.

"Hey," She greeted both of them, a warm smile to Bucky and a simple look to Clint.

"Tasha." Bucky greeted, letting her sit on the bed with him.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, taking his remaining hand into her own.

"Good." He nodded, squeezing her fingers. "I'm gonna be fine."

A pause hung in the air after Natasha expressed her own relief. She sat so Clint could see her and Bucky could hear her, the archer staying perched on his stool.

"So." Bucky started again, looking between the both of them with light in his features. "How did it go last night?"

"Good." Natasha answered quickly, swallowing when she realized it was too fast.

Clint shrugged. "Fine." He added as well, Bucky looking from him, to Natasha, and back to him. "I..didn't do the lift. But it was good."

"Good." He nodded, looking between them again. Clint frowned, Natasha ran a hand over her arm and avoided eye contact with Clint.

They stayed like that for a few moments. Bucky kept looking to each of them, the air thick between the three.

"Well, I'm going to.." Clint coughed, wiping at his nose. "I guess I'm gonna go." He waited a few seconds, both of them staring at him, and he left through the door.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Bucky turned to Natasha as soon as the archer left.

"Don't worry about Max." The redhead assured, outlining the edges of his fingers with her own. "I tell him your grandmother died or something, give you some time."

"Yeah. _That'll_ explain everything." The other dancer rolled his eyes. "Look at me." She listened, green eyes meeting his brown. "How many times have you told me not to get mixed up with them?"

"I know what I'm doing, James." She snapped back him, shaking her head.

Bucky sighed, pushing himself up on the bed to sit up. "Listen to me. You have to stop this. Now."

She only sighed, looking away from him again.

* * *

It rained.

It rained the next day, it rained the one after that. Thunderous, black clouds with blinding lightning striking every few moments kind of storming. Cracks of thunder so loud Clint could hear them just as easily as he could feel them in his chest. The lake flooded, one of the docks was overturned. No one was hurt. But the train could not be fixed (or the repairman would not work) while it rained. So they stayed.

Their cabin dripped, a wet spot on the edge of Clint's bed held his attention as Kate beautied herself in the mirror. Black hair that frizzed in the rain and was apparently the end of all things.

"I'm sick of this." She whined, spinning on the chair to face Clint, who poked at the spot on the blanket. She slapped his arm. "Remind me never to go to Niagra Falls."

"So, go to Acapulco." He deadpanned.

Barney sat in the corner, crossword sitting at the table as he hummed over the questions. Still no words to Clint. Kate muttered something about lipstick behind him, but he was already sliding off the bed, grabbing a rain jacket.

"Hey!" He heard the shout from his brother's voice and turned around before he could escape through the door. "Where're you goin'?"

"Ah.." He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "They have..charades. In the west lobby, thought I might..be good at it?" He gave him half a smile and didn't let either of them comment before slipping out to the pouring rain.

* * *

He had gone to Natasha's cabin. Really, it's predictable, but he couldn't stay away from her for this long. It was nice, they laid together, the redhead sprawled out on his bare chest. The rain and the humidity made her hair frizz, the red curls turning wild as they laid over his skin. She hummed with whatever song was spinning on the record player and Clint felt it through her chest and in his. The rain still poured on the roof and outside.

His fingers trailed across her bare back and he felt her smile. She pushed herself up so he could see her face, the smile causing him to mirror her's.

"You're different." She told him, moving to sit comfortably and wrapped in the sheets under her arms to cover her chest. "You know, like. Not like the other guests. How.." She paused, like she didn't know what to say. "How did you get to be in the circus?"

Clint waited for her to finish, shrugging when she was, and pulled himself up to meet her posture. "I mean..I don't know." He shrugged again, eyes wandering.

"I want to know."

"No, I want to tell you. It's just…" He sighed. "My dad.. he wasn't a really, great guy, and all that stuff. And he hit me and brother around pretty bad sometimes...I don't know. That kinda stuff. So, my brother, when he thought he was old enough, he took me and we ran from the house, started living on the streets, and...eventually, we found Carson's."

He shrugged, looking to Natasha. Her expression was nearly stoic, but she was listening, paying attention almost respectfully.

"I figured out how to shoot, and I was really good at it." Clint continued, smiling some. "Buck started really training me, making me more into a performer instead of an actual archer, but, it worked. I have my own act….Carson pays Barney because he's over twenty-one, and we can stay as long as we want to as long as we don't do anything stupid and I keep my act going."

Natasha nodded, smiling some as she took his hand to thread their fingers together. "Sound like you really did something."

Clint blinked at her. "Like what?"

"Made something of yourself."

The archer nearly snorted, Natasha slapped his bicep. "Yeah, Clinton Francis Barton: The American Dream."

"Francis?" Natasha laughed, pulling his chin back to look at her when he pulled away, like so many other times. "Really?"

"Yeah..I know." Clint laughed with her, shaking his head.

"No, no.." Natasha insisted, laughter fading but smile staying. "A real nice name."

* * *

"Hey!" Clint barely managed to catch Kate's sharp whisper through his sleep, the younger girl leaning over the space between their beds to shake him by the shoulders. "Wake up!" She encouraged.

Clint buried his head back into the pillow as moonlight spilled into their cabin. At some point the rain had stopped, leaving the bugs to come back out and chirp as loud as they please, though it was out of Clint's range. He groaned, rubbing his eyes before looking back to her through the darkness.

"Don't be like that." The girl rolled her eyes, bed lighted by the moon so Clint could just make her out. "I've decided something." She waited for the archer to ask, but went on when he didn't. "I've decided to go all the way with Robby."

"What?" Clint shook the sleep away, blinking to make sure he could really see what she was saying. "No! No, not with someone like him."

"Do you think…" Kate ignored him, brushing back her hair to drape over her white nightgown, the ruffles and all making Clint think she should feel hot in that thing. "That if we come back here for our 10th Anniversary it would be free?"

"It's just wrong this way." Clint tried to grab her attention back, sincerity in his voice. "It should be..it should be with someone..someone that, you sort of, love." He ended like he wasn't really sure, that it was just a guess his imagination dreamed up.

"Aw, come on." Kate snapped back at him, glancing worryingly over to Barney's cot. The older man moved but didn't wake. The girl rolled her eyes. "You don't care about me….You wouldn't care if I humped the entire circus, as long as I don't tell Carson anything bad you do."

Clint blinked, frowning at the other on the bed.

"What you care about," Kate continued, leaning back on her pillows to barely face Clint, forcing him up on his elbows to listen. "Is that your big brother doesn't come to the rescue every time now. He listens when _I_ talk now, he gives _me_ money for whatever I need."

The blond stayed quiet, barely catching her last words before Kate turned opposite of him on the bed.

"And you hate that."

* * *

_**Well, this took a lot longer than I thought it would, and we still have 33 minutes left in the actual movie! Yay! **_

_**Don't worry, I won't abandon this, just taking my time.**_

_**I love reviews!**_


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